A Guy and a Girl Walk Into a Bar…
by Lilian
Summary: A seemingly innocent get together turns out to be quite the interesting afternoon. Features the Inner Senshi, Outer Senshi and the Shitennou. [Nephrite Haruka mischief]


**Title**: _A Guy and a Girl Walk Into a Bar…_ (or How Nate Learned More than He Ever Wanted to Know About the Senshi).

**Author:** Lilian

**Genre:** Humor? Very sick and twisted humor? Maybe it's crack-fic... hmmm.

**Rating:** PG-13, because Nate has a foul mouth.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Although if Mrs. Takeuchi ever knew what I was doing with them, she might be inclined to sue. :-)

This story was sparked by a comment someone made at the Shitennou forums a long, long time ago. As in, a couple of years back. It was something along the lines of 'there are no Outer Senshi + Shitennou stories out there'. It's been worked and re-worked and worked on again since then, but basically, this is the story I wanted to tell. Or, better said, the story Nathan told me I had to tell. :-)

During this fic, there are references to a certain other fic of mine, which I'm sure all of you will remember, as it involved a scantily-clad Zoi and a strawberry daiquiri. But it's by no means necessary to read that story to understand this one, although I've been told 'Leopard Printed Woes' is actually quite a fun read.

Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to comment!

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"You telling me you actually run the Indy 500?" asks Nathan, balancing a glass of tequila in one hand and a salty nacho with guacamole in the other. Across the table, Haruka pours herself another shot and smiles that cattish smile of hers.

"Yup."

The nacho disappears into Nathan's mouth, and amidst the crunching noises and the loud gulping of booze, Haruka catches his snort of disbelief. She raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow – Michiru knows all the best salons, after all – and points to the framed photograph sitting three feet and five inches behind Nathan's shoulder. He turns, glass swiveling precariously in his hand and sees that indeed, that is one Tenou Haruka hugging Michael whatshisname – yeah, Schumacher, that's it – and they are standing in front of a car. But it is not any car: it's one that makes Nathan salivate at the thought of riding it, and it is with envious eyes that he turns to look back at his friend.

"Weep on, pretty boy. I've got a collection of those just outside."

Before Nathan can demand Haruka take him to the Car Heaven she probably keeps in the mansion's garage, Makoto enters the room carrying what looks like to be an assorted collection of dips. And three more bowls of nachos.

Food chasing any thoughts about chassis's and wheels and stick shifts from his mind, Nathan looks at all the food Mako's putting in front of them and can't help but ask: "Who is this all for?"

Haruka snorts, a very unladylike thing to do, but it seems to fit her. Makoto just laughs, flipping a rebellious strand of hair back and balances the tray in one hand while moving the bowls around with the other. It took her about two weeks to master that move, Nathan knows, remembering a time about four years ago when Mako took her first waitressing job. She's head-chef and proud owner of her own restaurant now, but he still remembers fondly those days when she would walk around their tiny apartment with a tray of food in each hand.

"For you, silly", she's saying, and Nathan is forced back to the present by the sweet smell of her hair, all chocolaty and sweet. She has probably been cooking again, even if she promised him to stop doing it while at other people's houses. He can't find it in himself to point it out to her, both because she has that twinkle in her eye that tells him she found the perfect amount of glaze to put on her newest invention and because, well, he likes her cakes a whole damn lot. And what better to chug down the three bowls of nachos with guacamole that a really nice piece of chocolate cake?

"Watch it, Mako", Haruka teases, brandishing a beer in her left hand and Nathan is surprised to realize just how feminine they really are. Her hands, that is. He sometimes forget that Haruka is a woman, and quite a sexy one at that, not that he would ever say that in front of Makoto, thank you very much. But when Haruka goes around flashing her coral-pink nails – cropped short for efficiency, just like her hair – the illusion of being with just one of the guys shatters and Nathan doesn't really know what to make of her. "Watch it, or he'll gain all those pounds you made him loose last year!"

Nathan lets out an undignified yelp – not shriek, because macho men like him do not shriek. Zach shrieks, but him? King of the Manliness? He yelps – and reaches over to grab the biggest nacho he can find, dips it with what seems to be a mouthful of guacamole and pops it in his mouth. "Speak for yourself, girly-girl", he says, his voice coming out distorted and nacho-like, "I don't see **you** hitting the gym anytime soon!"

He should know better than to play this game with Haruka. Somehow, the little she-devil always seems to get the upper hand: "Oh, but Nate old boy, there are so many **other** ways," she makes the word 'other' sound sinful and bedroom-y and Nate catches Mako blushing as she turns to leave, "to burn the excess fat. Michiru, she does this thing with her thighs that just—"

Before the first hints of a nosebleed can make their way down his face – and because the image is starting to sound a little bit **too** appealing – he raises his hand, effectively halting any more detailed depictions of what Haruka and Michiru do when they are alone. And ignoring that voice in his head, sounding a lot like Jason, screaming at him that he is an idiot for letting it pass up, re-directs the conversation to less pleasant but no less entertaining topics: "So, you up for another round?" He points to the deck of cards messily sprawled all over the table. There are pairs and flushes and aces all spread around, and oh my God, is that a tiny house of cards over there where Zach was sitting?

There is a big amount of chips sitting in front of him, but he has been eyeing Haruka's pile, which, not surprisingly, is about twice the size of his own. And he wants it. He's beaten the rest of the guys – Mamoru included: he can be Prince of Earth all he wants, but when it comes to playing poker, the guy has the worst bluff face Nathan has ever seen – over and out so far, so much so that if they were playing real money he'd own their souls by now. But, for some reason or other, Haruka remains his strongest opponent, calling his bluffs and winning his chips and that girl has more balls that all his fellow brothers put together.

And that's the greatest compliment Nathan could ever give, but he'll be damned before it leaves his mouth. One can never show all of his cards at once, right?

"Why, so I can trick you out of those awful clothes you're wearing?" Haruka jeers, and Nathan's chest puffs out like a balloon. Before he can defend his much-insulted honor – he was voted Best Dressed Freshman, back in the day! – Jason's voice comes from behind the couch, where he is engrossed in a video game that he is determined to finish.

"For Serenity's sake, Haruka, did you have to touch the clothes? Now we'll never hear the end of it!"

Haruka's grin is once again cattish, that smile that is mischievous and alluring all at once. It should be a man's smile, that one, but somehow Haruka pulls it off. "Precisely." A shadow of a shiver runs up and down Nate's spine, and he vows to be a Very Good Boy if he never has to hear that tone of voice again. The Outers are deadly, and they – and Haruka, specially – take the time and effort to make sure nobody never forgets that.

Beside Jason, Usagi's head jerks to the left and then to the right as she tries to force her virtual car to move where she wants it to go. Of course it doesn't, and she ends up crashing into what looks like an Armani store. Good thing it's just a videogame, although Nathan makes a mental to make sure Mamoru never lets his wife drive his **very** expensive car.

In the back of the humongous living room, Setsuna sits on a black loveseat, cradling a book in her lap. From this angle, it looks like she's dozing off, but Nate knows better: Setsuna, the Guardian of Time, never rests. She never sleeps. She is like a bird of prey, always watching, always waiting, ready to strike the moment they let their guards down—a soft snore wafts across the room, and Nathan can't suppress the slight smirk that follows.

Ok, so maybe even sentient, all-seeing goddess-like women take a break every once in a while.

Meanwhile, Rei seems to be particularly interested in diverting Jason's attention away from the game. She lounges beside him, panty-clad legs rubbing enticingly against Jase's trousers, and just looking at her display makes Nate's blood run a little faster. It's a common thing, his response, when most of his friends are gorgeous, breath-taking young women. Jase, however, seems oblivious to Rei's attempts to distract him from the on-going race in front of him, and he smacks a kiss in Rei's general direction without even looking away from the screen.

Rei huffs in indignation and storms out. Nate should tell Jase he has about five seconds to go after her before there is hell to pay, but then decides against it. It's always fun to watch those two bicker, and it's specially fun to watch Jase play the apologetic, remorseful boyfriend.

Wearing a satisfied grin, he turns back to Haruka and notices her brow is furrowed and she seems to be looking around for something. "Lost your girl?" he asks her, knowing that Michiru is always Haruka's top priority. And come to think of it, he hasn't seen Michiru in a long while… not since she graciously played hostess to their boisterous, loud party a while ago.

"Yeah. She and Ami have been missing for a while, now."

The mention of one Mizuno Ami makes Nate realize something else: he hasn't seen Zach in a while either. As any other healthy, twenty-something male, his mind's first explanation involves a bed and disposed clothing, but he quickly squashes the thought. Ami wouldn't let Zach get away with such a thing, not when the entire gang is less than ten feet away. Although, doesn't the saying warn you against the quiet ones? Who knows, perhaps Ami is a closet dominatrix or something, and is right now in the process of making Zach announce very loudly who is his sugar momma or something. Shuddering at the twists and turns of his mind, Nathan just shrugs his shoulders: "Maybe they went for a dive."

The first time Nate saw the humongous indoor pool behind Haruka's house, he thought he had stumbled into a porn movie. Because here he was, looking for a bathroom, and instead he had stepped into the biggest pool he had seen outside of a gym, and there was a curvaceous beauty just stepping out of the water, drying ringlets of aquamarine-colored hair as her damp body glistened enticingly. It wasn't until Michiru casually began to shimmy out of her bathing suit that Nate had managed to cough not-so-politely to draw attention to himself. The surprise came when Michiru, instead of a) stopping and b) yelling imaginative curses at him for spying on her, took the road less traveled and coyly asked him if he could unzip the back of her suit.

Luckily, Haruka had arrived on time to prevent Nate from making a fool of himself, and it was right then that Nate began to understand the weird, and sometimes downright bizarre life the two women led. Because not only was Haruka not jealous of Michiru flaunting herself at Nate, she was practically beaming with pride at the thought of it! Makoto had tried to explain to him the radical, liberal lives of the Outer Senshi, but one really had to experience it to believe it. It wasn't until he had stammered an apology and fled the pool-premises that he realized that Michiru had played him, and played him good. Haruka had been standing by the door all along, probably having gone in pursuit of the missing Shitennou, and Nate had just been a good excuse – as if they really needed any – to get a rise out of Haruka. When he got back to the main house, and recounted his tale to the rest of his friends, Rei calmly informed him that Haruka and Michiru would be gone for a while. As everyone nodded in acquiescence, Nate had just shaken his head.

Coming back to himself, Nate realizes Haruka is still looking around. "Why don't you just go look for her?" Nathan blinks, focuses, and then blinks again. Is that a pout he sees in Haruka's face? Oh my, it really is!

He remembers a day, not so long ago, when Makoto effectively chained him to their living room, demanding he attend to their guests while she cooked. It seems Michiru has done the same thing to Haruka today... He was stuck in that couch for over an hour, he remembers, having to listen to Minako recount some failed date or other with **extreme** detail. Come to think of it, where's Minako? She hasn't been around in a while either… but Kevin is right there, out in the balcony, doing his brooding thing where he acts as if he wants to suck the fun out of everyone else. It never works, usually because Usagi or Minako herself come and force him to enjoy himself, but judging by the deep frown clouding Kevin's features, Minako has been gone for at least half an hour.

Curiosity piqued, Nathan makes a recount. He can hear Mako singing in the kitchen, and the delicious smell of recently baked chocolate cake still wafts in from the hallway. Jase has gone outside and has begun his endless stream of apologies to Rei, judging by the interesting use of expletives that comes in through the open windows. As Nate's gaze travels across the living room, he notices Usagi has moved over to where Mamoru sits and quickly looks away as his prince's hand moves to places no gentleman would touch in public. Those two, still acting like honeymooners despite the fact they've been married for over two years now. He catches movement through the corner of his eye, and turns to find the missing Minako leaning by Setsuna's seat… they're both engrossed in deep conversation, hushed whispers that Nathan can't quite make out.

When Minako smiles widely at something Setsuna says, he begins to worry. But when Setsuna answers with a matching grin of her own, he begins to panic. Both women leave the room without as much as a glance behind them, exchanging words with great enthusiasm. Nathan breaks into cold sweat. The last time he saw Minako this excited, the four of them ended up wearing matching leopard-print thongs at the **very** crowded beach. What torture has the blonde wench conjured up now?

A hand settles on his shoulder, and he turns to find Haruka already out of her seat. The blonde shakes her head in the direction of the doorway: "I won't tell if you won't."

Without even realizing it, Nate is already half-way across the living room, following a swift Haruka as they make their way towards the door. They pass just a few feet away from Usagi and Mamoru, and Nathan wonders if he should be offended or concerned that his prince didn't even notice the both of them move past. But then he catches a small feminine moan and boy is he skedaddling out of the living-room so fast he gives himself whiplash. Good thing the common room is empty now, leaving the two lovebirds to desecrate Michiru's sofa as they see fit. Nate wonders if the ever-poised Neptune Senshi would mind Chibi-Usa being conceived in her ten thousand dollar couch.

He nearly runs into Haruka as the woman stops suddenly. She motions for him to remain silent and as she scouts out the hallway to their right, he busies himself with disentangling his hair from the strange looking sculpture to his left. Weird-ass art, he would rather call it, but Michiru looked so damn pleased when she presented her newest acquisition to them that he can't bring himself to insult the thing out loud. It's supposed to be the crown achievement of some obscure artist or another – a name Nate couldn't even pronounce if his spoken-Japanese didn't suck like a sucking thing – but for all Nate cares, as he not-so-carefully pries his hair from the strings and wires sticking out of the thing, it's better suited for tomorrow's garbage.

Just in time, though, because Haruka nods and leads him across two hallways and a staircase, and he can swear that he has never been on this side of the house. Of course, Michiru rarely lets them leave the north wing – yeah, this house is so big it actually has wings – but that's only because Jase and his butter-fingers got up close and personal with Michiru's Fabergé egg and turned it into Broken Glass Not Worth a Yen. So he just relies on Haruka's sense of direction and follows her, not noticing how her tight jeans fit her very nice behind. Nope, not noticing at all.

"Stop checking me out, dude, and be quiet!"

Haruka's angry whisper is sent without even a look his way. He doesn't know she does it, but this woman apparently has eyes in the back of her head or something. So, rather than deny what was apparently so obvious to her, he sends another retort back: "I **am** being quiet!"

He supposes they look rather funny, skulking around the seemingly empty house, going through empty rooms furnished by very expensive decorators. They pass two pianos – the big kind, where the choir girl rolls around as she sings, not the cheap thing Mamoru claims he doesn't own but plays on the weekends anyway – and what looks like an small planetarium, but Nate can't be really sure because Haruka moves fast and he doesn't want to be left behind. But he guesses if they can have an Olympic sized pool, they can damn well have a planetarium.

Streams of conversation reach them, Minako's voice carrying well across the wide corridor they've just entered. It's dark, darker than it should be with the sun blaring outside, but Nate realizes all the drapes of this hall are drawn. He doesn't get time to ask why, because Setsuna's voice comes next: "I think he looks rather flushed, don't you?"

Nate blinks. He? Have they actually found the missing Zachary? What are these devil-women doing to his poor fellow man? He isn't sure he wants to find out, but Haruka inches forward, taking soft cat-steps upon the plush carpet beneath their feet. He follows.

"Are you all right, Zach?", answers Ami, and something in Nate relaxes at the sound of her voice. If Ami's there, then it can't be anything to awful, can it? Just as he thinks that, a memory makes its way through: Ami was actually one of the instigators of the thong debacle of last summer! It seems Zach has answered in affirmation, because she continues: "Good. We still have like four more to try out."

He feels himself heaving. It cannot be! Not again! The horror, the woe! Haruka shakes him around, bringing him back to his senses. "Pull yourself together, man! Now is not the time to be a fainting schoolgirl!" The chiding is a little less effective than usual, seeing as it is being whispered hurriedly instead of yelled out in the heat of battle, but it's enough to stop the panic wave and make Nate start breathing a little easier. Suddenly, he doesn't want to look into that room. He doesn't want to know what they're doing there. But curiosity – or perhaps sympathy for a fallen comrade, as he is pretty damn sure Zach's not in there by his own free will – gets the better of him and he steels his will and listens in some more.

"I think this one's too long—we had trouble getting the last one in and this is at least a couple of inches more", Minako is saying now, in a thoughtful voice. Not a tone she uses often, Nate muses, and it worries him to hear it now, "but you gotta admit this one has a much more interesting texture. And the shape is much better too"

Shape? Length? What in the devil are they doing in there? Nate gets the sudden feeling that he and Haruka are not supposed to be listening to this particular conversation. He's about to tell Haruka as much, when Michiru's voice floats back to them and he senses the blonde straining to hear: "I'll bet it does. Last time I tried one of those with Haruka, she went wild. Catnip-kitten wild."

Before he can even use one of his many taunts, kept safely stored inside his brain for situations such as this, Haruka casts a dangerous look his way: "One word out of you, Hollywood, and you're dead."

Wisely, Nate decides his life isn't worth getting a rise out of Haruka, so he just raises his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, your Majesty." But still, wouldn't it be interesting to know just what it takes to drive Haruka 'catnip-wild'? A sudden image of Haruka rolling around a gigantic yarn of string comes to mind, and the silly smiles it conjures up is enough to earn him a smack on the back of his head.

"Pervert", Haruka mutters before turning back to the open door. There are at such an angle they can't really see anything inside, except for a few wisps of cloth that Nate recognizes as Ami's coat. But the sound carries well enough, and they listen carefully as someone paces around the room and a chair is shifted around. "I think we're going to have to go with the green one instead."

That's Setsuna. There's no mistaking her voice, tinged with traces of an exotic accent that make Nate think she might not be Japanese. But then again, by the time Setsuna was born, there wasn't even a land called Japan, so that's probably a safe bet. Once again, the fervent need to see if Setsuna would be kind enough to share a few track results with him arises, and then he remembers the last time Jason tried to pull that kind of thing on the Guardian of Time. Almost being eaten by a T-rex (_Oh, you wanted see **horse** racing! My mistake!_) had shaken the stupidity out of the guy for a while, but Nate was betting it wouldn't be long before he tried again. After all, wasn't his perseverance and stubbornness that had won him Rei's heart in the first place?

His mind takes a turn for the kinky – a road quite well traveled, one might say – and he wonders if the reason Jase takes as much abuse from Rei as he does is because he is a closet masochist. Or maybe Rei is just that good in the sack… not that he has ever wondered, of course. But sometimes, when she wears those stilettos of hers, one can't help but think…

"Nathan, please stop drooling all over my back. It's so unbecoming."

Haruka's rebuke is like a bucket of ice cold water. His brain shuts up and stops sending him images of Rei clad in nothing but her Senshi high heels, and instead he concentrates on the happenings behind the door.

"See? I knew you'd be great, Sets". That's Minako. She is the only one brave enough – or foolish enough, Nate has yet to decide – to call Setsuna by anything else other than her real name. "Have to have a fashion expert, otherwise this whole thing is moo."

It is more by habit than anything else that has Ami stepping in to correct her: "Moot, Minako. This whole thing is moot." The stunned silence that follows lets everyone know that the point has completely missed Minako's pretty little head. "Whatever. So, anyway, was I right or was I right in bringing Sets into this whole thing?"

All the females voices agree that indeed, Minako has been very wise in bringing Setsuna into their secret-gathering, until Zach speaks up, and Nate detects a whole lot of whining in his voice: "But does she have to see me like this? It's kind of embarrassing…"

There is a tiny, dainty laugh that Nate identifies as Setsuna. It is the kind of giggle that says '_foolish, foolish boy'_, and one that Setsuna probably invented back in the day: "Believe me, Zachary, embarrassing is not the way I would describe it."

Ok, that's it. Nate **has** to know what they're doing in there. As in, he would sell his porn collection that he keeps stashed under the mattress, and that Makoto pretends not to see every time she cleans their apartment. Thinking fondly of the many times they have kept him company while Mako is on those chef trips of hers, he decides against it. He wouldn't part with sweet little Miss April 2005 if the world was ending.

"God", came Haruka's annoyed voice from not three inches to his right, "Does everything turn to sex with you?"

He gives her a leer, knowing it will only annoy her further. He just shrugs his shoulders, and whispers back: "What can I say? I'm a guy." The huff of frustration that follows is enough to brighten Nate's mood, and as Haruka turns back to watching the open door, he can swear she mumbles something along the lines of '_I'm so glad I'm a lesbian_.' But he might be wrong.

All of a sudden, Haruka scrambles back so suddenly she literally falls into him. His yelp of surprise – and pain, because Haruka's elbow is jamming itself into oh-so-sensitive parts of him – is muffled by her hand latching on to his mouth, in an effort to keep him quiet. The small table behind them shakes with the impact of two well muscled bodies colliding against it, and the expensive flower vase atop of it seems just about ready to topple over. He reaches out to steady it before it can fall, and he's about to shove Haruka off of him, when he hears the familiar shuffle of feet approaching, and Michiru's voice sound much, much closer now than it did not five minutes ago: "I should be getting back. Who knows what Haruka's been doing all this time."

Nathan is quick enough to cover Haruka's mouth to prevent the offended squeak from falling out. The blonde sends him a murderous look, but they both know they're in deep shit: if Michiru takes another step, she'll see them skulking around the corner and there will be hell to pay! They wait there, like deer caught in the headlights, unable to move a single inch to save themselves. And then, gracious heavens, Minako speaks: "She's a big girl, Michiru! You can't go! Not until we're tried your new pastels, at least!"

_Please, oh please listen to Minako_, pleads Nate in his mind, and if Haruka's frantic head bobbing is any indication, so is she. There's about three seconds of doubt, where their fates hang from a thread, and then Michiru sighs and relents.

"Okay, you are right. They are responsible adults. They can handle themselves for a few more minutes."

Of course, had Michiru bothered to step outside of the room, she would have witnessed a serious display of non-adult behavior. Rather than being thankful for their graces and quietly slithering back into the common room, where Mamoru was probably busy doing very un-prince-like things to Usagi, Haruka and Nathan take their chances and move closer to the door. Behind them, the Greek-themed flower vase seems to resent its abandonment, and glints in stray sunlight coming through the curtains.

"Fifty bucks say that they have him dressed up", whispers Haruka, straining to hear as conversation continues within the room beyond. Nathan is about to tell her that she must be certifiably insane if she thinks he's betting **anything** when she's involved, when Minako speaks up.

"You know, looking at it from this angle, I'd say it's longer than Kevin's."

Nate blinks. Could they be—naw, it couldn't be! Could it?

Ami speaks next, voice colored with wonderment: "You know, I've never really thought about it-- but I think you might be right. Not as thick, though…"

OK, he has to be imagining things. Because there's no **way** sweet, innocent Ami is saying what he thinks she's saying— "Actually, I've always thought Nathan's was the thickest of them all."

The mention of his name sends his mind reeling, and as Haruka casts him a strange look, he shrugs his shoulders. They can't be talking about **that**, could they? I mean, every girly magazine Mako leaves lying about, and that he has read only because of a lack of something else to occupy himself with, says size doesn't matter. That it's how you use it, right?

"Oh yeah, definitely. Nate's has to be the thickest one I've ever seen."

Setsuna's know-it-all tone is enough to spring forth the fiercest of blushes Nate has ever experienced, and this time, Haruka's eyes have an appreciative glint when they turn to him.

Saving him from having to listen to whatever smart-ass comments Haruka is about to make, Minako pipes up again, and they hear movement within the room, as if someone was milling about: "Rei was telling me the other day that Jason's is too short to play with. Most of the time she has to retort to herself to try new things."

The horror of what girls **really** talk about when they are alone hits Nathan like a mack truck. But the realization that he, of all four of his mates, is the one held in highest esteem follows suit, and again, that silly grin that is all male pride curls his lips.

"Lucky for us", Mina continues, " we have a wonderful volunteer right here!"

There's a faint moan of despair, and Nathan recognizes Zach's whine. It's quite an spectacular whine, that one… it has just the right pitch, just the right tilt at the end, and were it up to Nathan, he would gather Zach up and hug him until all of his troubles went away.

Surprised at his own reaction, and vowing never again to listen to Mako's 'awws' and 'ahhs' whenever they encounter a puppy, he thinks manly thoughts like cars and chicks and football, and the feeling quickly goes away.

"So", comes Ami's no-nonsense voice, clearly having decided even Zach's undying love for her can only take so much from her best friends, "are we going with the purple or the green one?"

Nathan watches Haruka stretch and bend like no woman outside of Playboy ever should, and hisses at her under his breath: "What the hell are you doing?" If she keeps twisting and turning like she wants to dislocate her left arm, they are going to hear them! "Shut up, Hollywood. I'm just trying to—"

Now, when Haruka began her very good imitation of a circus contortionist, she forgot one very important thing: momentum. She tips herself forward, leaning all of her weight on one strong leg, straining to get a peek at the room beyond, not caring that her balance is being shot to hell. So when her arm stretches beyond its limit, she topples forward easily, a tiny, feminine yelp of surprise falling from her lips… instinct makes her reach out for leverage, and the closest thing is, of course, Nathan. Her fingers close upon his shirt and pull, in an effort to pull herself up and not end up sprawled quite unceremoniously all over the floor. What she didn't count on either, was that eavesdropping is a tricky business, and one must lean forward and one's tiptoes to hear better. So Nate's balance is as bad as hers, and with a 'hey!' loud enough to alert the girls they are being spied on, both of them fall. Nate, being a couple of inches taller than Haruka, has long legs… one of them kicks out in desperation, a final attempt to find support, and slams into the table nearby.

With a sound like tinkling laughter, the Greek vase rolls off the table, crashes against the one rug-less spot in the corridor and smashes into a million tiny pieces. Had Nathan's protest went unnoticed – and it hadn't: these are, after all, the Sailor Senshi, warriors of old and thus very attuned to their environment and male screams of various ranges – the sound of Very Expensive Furniture breaking drew all of the occupants of the room out.

Nate pushes Haruka's calf out of his face, muttering something about **somebody** putting on some weight lately, and looks up to find several pairs of female eyes eyeing him with looks ranging from utter surprise to resignation. Haruka's 'fuck off, mate' goes unnoticed – except by Michiru, whose eyes narrows predatorily. She is not one to suffer rude language lightly – as Nate tries to look as innocent as possible.

He has been told he has a very good 'who, me?' look. Of course, it has never worked with Makoto. By extension, it seems, it doesn't work this time either. So as Haruka tries to disentangle her foot from his shirt and keeps muttering under her breath about ditzy-ness and that maybe Usagi's condition is contagious, Nate just taps Haruka's thigh to attract her attention.

"What?", she yells, tugging at her bracelet, reluctant as it is to leave the comfy confines of his belt buckle. "Can't you see I'm busy?" Nate doesn't even look at her. He just points at the group of women staring down at them. Haruka follows his gesture, and blanches. Literally blanches, going pale under her I-spent-the-summer-in-the-Caribbean tan.

"Oh. Uhm. Hi", she begins, that famous wit of hers deserting her faster than a chocolate sundae by way of the Usagi-express. "Fancy meeting you here."

Nathan can see she's having no effect on the five pair of eyes glaring at them from above so he—wait. Five pairs of eyes? His own irises count rapidly, and come to rest on the excess: Zach. But no the Zach he knows, not the Zach who brought the entire senior class of Juuban High to its feet with his rendition of Don Juan de Marco, not the Zach that could, with the tilt of a handsome face, break the hearts of countless women…

"Dude. What the hell did they do to you?"

He's asking a stupid question. One would have to be blind – and minus a nose as well, he corrects, sniffing the waft of feminine perfume making its way to them – not to see Zach has been turned into a life-sized Barbie doll.

He's wearing make-up. Something that makes his eyes stand out like emeralds and his lips glisten with pink. Nate can't really say if its blush or a deep sense of shame, but Zach's cheeks are colored with a light coral hue, and there are two tiny pearl earrings dangling from his ears. His hair is loose, cascading down his back and framing this handsome, beautiful face.

_He looks hot_, Nate's brain thinks before he can stop himself. _Dear God, now I have to kill myself_, comes in close second.

There's a clicking noise in the back of his head, but he ignores it in the attempt to bleach the inside of his head. He did **not** just lust after his best friend. He did **not**. He snaps his eyes shut, barely listens to Haruka attempt an excuse, and instead vows never, ever again to listen to **anything** Haruka has to say.

When someone taps his shoulders, he sneaks a peek to see Haruka's face hovering near his, a strange look on his face. "Hey, slick. They're gone."

Nate looks at her, uncomprehending. But Haruka keeps making comforting noises, patting his shoulder and making jokes until he feels his muscles relaxing, the adrenaline fading from his system. He feels good enough to stand up, so he does, proud that he only stumbles once. Haruka is looking around the now empty hallway, and the sound of feminine laughter comes from far away. It seems they have moved back to the main room, leaving the two culprits to their own devices. Nate just hopes Zach is in some bathroom taking all of that stuff off, because just the thought of it brings shivers to his spine.

How is it that someone can look **that** different? There were no major changes, he knows, just some make-up over here, a little perfume over there—and yet Zach had been a completely different person. He had been a **woman**, for God's sake! Shaking his head, he's asking the question before he even realizes he's speaking up: "How did they do it?"

Haruka laughs, a single, joyful sound, and gives him a look. "Watch."

Hadn't Nate known any better, he would've sworn Haruka was using Usagi's Transformation Pen. Something clicks into place and it is as if a curtain is being drawn over her, a completely different persona occupying her body, and Nate is suddenly looking at a young, handsome man. Sandy blonde hair, smirking blue eyes, and a **man**. Then, as if the curtain was being pulled back, Haruka shifts in her stance, just tiny movements of her hips, a single toss of her hair, and she is a woman again.

"It's not that hard once you set your mind to it", she says casually, and Nate is reminded of something the girls had once told him: upon first meeting Haruka, all of them had believed her to a boy. If the story was true, Minako had even tried to date her, which he couldn't put past the ever-lovesick blonde. But up until now, he hadn't quite believed it. Haruka had always behaved like a woman with him, and while he could see while other people might be confused – the clothes, the voice, the haircut – he hadn't really **seen** it. Had never been the target of Haruka's full disguise, and now, having witnessed the impressive transformation, found a whole new level of respect towards the Senshi of Wind.

"Ahem", he clears his throat, because yeah, it makes him uncomfortable and he's not ashamed to admit it, "so. We're dead."

Haruka blinks at him. Nate waves a hand towards the empty dressing room they had been spying on, and shrugs. "I just wonder if Mako's gonna wait till we're back home to skin me. I hear she can be quite vindictive with that spatula of hers."

Haruka just keeps on staring at him, something akin to a grin beginning to curl her lips. "Don't go catty on me, blondie. Michiru is so going to make you pay for this…"

The grin falters at the mention of her lover's name, but it's soon back, accompanied this time with a graceful eyebrow arch. "Oh, I know she will. But I have something that'll make it bearable."

Nathan chuckles. "Girl, how am I supposed to stop being a pervert if you keep giving me such good mental images everywhere I turn?" Haruka snorts, turning around, and flashes him her cell phone. Truth to be told, it is one damn good cell phone, all silver and high-tech and stuff, and if Nate could tell the difference between the 'enter' key and the 'power' button of his laptop it would really make him salivate, but since he can't, it doesn't.

"Drop it, Hollywood, or I won't share my bounty with you."

He shrugs. "What use could you possibly have that I could give a damn about?" Besides the hot cars, an amazing crib and a rich lifestyle, that is. Not that his and Mako's apartment isn't perfectly livable, but a guy can dream, right? He's about to leave when the cell phone chirps to life, and Nate can see the tiny lens embedded on the front. The tiny, silver **camera** lens.

"Pictures, Hollywood. Pictures. And that means…"

Haruka trails off, letting Nate step off the cliff on his own.

"Blackmail."

The twin grins that lit up their faces would have scared Beryl out of her skanky dress.

--

The End.

Did you guess what the girls were talking about? And no, it's not what Nate thought:-)


End file.
